AnaMaría
by KLloyd
Summary: I have been wondering about AnaMaría. As far as I know, she could be just anyone. I’ve got a theory, and maybe you like it to. This is a short Sparrington drabble.


Disclaimer: The characters and plot of **Pirates of the Caribbean: the Curse of the Black Pearl**are the property of Walt Disney Pictures. No profit was made from this story, and no infringement was intended. This work was produced solely for entertainment. Don't even try to imagine what I would do with them if I owned them.

I have been wondering about AnaMaría. As far as I know, she could be just anyone. I've got a theory, and maybe you like it to. On second thought, I bet you don't, but I don't care. And about the spelling; it's spelled "ANAMARIA" in the credits and I think "AnaMaría" is what you get when you spell it in Spanish, which seems like the best thing to do to me.

'Ehmm… Jack?'

'Mmm'

'What was that I heard AnaMaría say to Mr. Gibbs? About some moon thing or some such?'

'That's a boat. Or, rather, that _was _a boat. Quite pretty that one.'

'Uhumm…?'

'Jack?'

'Mmm'

'What boat?'

'Actually, it's your boat.'

'My boat?'

'Yea, technically, since I left it in your port.'

'But you said it _was_ a boat.'

'True; I did, it's in your port, but it's not at the dock. Well, last time I saw her, the top of the mast where at the dock.'

'You left a sunken boat, in my port, at my dock?'

'Sure as the sun shines.'

He turned around at this statement, and gazed out of the window. It was in dead of night, and only a few stars where sparkling far away. 'I see.'

'Jack?' He only got a grunt for answer. 'You have not answered my question.'

'What question?'

'The moon-boat. What of it?'

'She sank.' Silence. 'What could I do? With you running up my pants and all?'

'Oh, come on.'

'Well, truth to be told, she belongs to Ana'.

'Really?'

'At least she did, before I took her, then she became mine, savvy?'

'You stole a boat from AnaMaría?'

'We have agreed I borrowed it.'

'The boat. You have to tell me about the boat.'

'Do I now?

'Yes, you do. What's its name?'

'The Jolly Moon'

'How come you "_borrowed" _it?'

'I needed a boat, and she was the best one at hand.'

'She sank.'

'Yes, I know.'

'I mean, how could a sinking boat be the best one at hand?'

'First, she wasn't sinking when I got her'

'You sank her?' A lazy gaze met his eyes.

'Second, she was the only boat at hand'

'Oh…'

'So you just left AnaMaría without a boat somewhere?'

'That's the one part of the truth.'

'What's the rest?'

'At home.'

'I'll find the rest of the truth in Port Royal?'

'I wouldn't think so. I left_ her_ at home.'

'And what do you mean with "_at home"_? Do you lot even have a home?'

'Sure we do. My home happens to be the Pearl.'

'I figured that much.'

'What of AnaMaría's home? Do you mean that the Caribbean is her home?'

'No no no, not at all. I said _at home_, which implies a roof, some walls, a fireplace and a connection. Which, when I think about it, is a description fitting for ol'Caribee to. '

'So what did you mean?'

'As I said; at home. Where she was born.'

'Where she was born?'

'You know what happened?'

'No.'

'You know that pretty little lady you had in Poor Royal?'

'_Port_ Royal.'

'We usually say Poor nowadays.'

'You mean Elisabeth?'

'No, she never belonged to you; she belongs fully and totally to Will. You should've seen him back then, utterly crazy about her. What a sight really, even in Tortuga, all tied up and proper in order to honour _his_ lady.''

'And my lady should be… the Interceptor which you stole?'

'Aye, that one'

'What with the Interceptor?'

'I gave it to Ana to make up for the Moon.'

'And then you sank her.'

'No, Barbossa sank her.'

'Whatever…'

'Se was a nice ship. I miss her.'

'Yes, she was. I'm sorry 'bout her, but it's not my fault. Blame Will.'

'Why would I blame Will?'

'Because, if he hadn't knocked me unconscious with that oar of his; the Interceptor would still be sailing. Maybe Elisabeth would've lost her blacksmith, but Ana wouldn't have lost her ship. And I would've gotten me Pearl back earlier'

'Who, really, is AnaMaría?'

'She's my sister.'

'WHAT?'

'You know, two people love each other…' He felt a hand sliding up his leg at this.

'Ump. I meant, aah, she doesn't look like your sister.'

'She's my half-sister.'

'At least that explains the _at home_-thing…'

'You talk too much.' After that he couldn't talk anymore, only gasp and groan.


End file.
